


The Peculiarities of Demetrius Blotting and Papers

by obsessedbutonline



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Bookshop, Fae & Fairies, Faery Court, Library, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mythology - Freeform, Nature Magic, Nymphs & Dryads, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 01:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21066830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedbutonline/pseuds/obsessedbutonline
Summary: Working in the most magically profound bookshop is a walk in the park.Until it isn't.When a stranger comes looking for a registry of one of the most well-known wolf packs in America, Stiles finds himself intrigued.And unfairly invested in making the guy smile.And if it takes a bit of sneaking to do that, then that's nobodies business but his own, right?





	The Peculiarities of Demetrius Blotting and Papers

Coming to New York had been a turning point in Stiles life, for worse or for better, he wasn't entirely sure. Maybe it had taken a rather mundane turn, people hadn't hastened to say, but he found it calming. The almost anonymity you achieved walking down the crowded streets, the eccentric places you couldn't find anywhere else, the absurd amount of coffee shops, and the plethora of supernatural resources. New Yorks best-kept secret.

To the majority of the human population, New York was known as the Big Apple, the bustling, crowded city where nightlife thrived, but a select few, like him, had been thrust into the underground network of other that the supernatural life had created there. 

Stiles liked to pride himself in knowing the best people, having been one of the only few Nymphs choosing to reside in the city, he was valued for his connections to the Faery Court, which found him as the unofficial Faery representative of New York, a title he was fond of telling the people in the know when they crossed him, much to their chagrin.

But despite his very high position, he was still completely unremarkable to the greater population. Stiles Stilinski, the lowly only-just adult who was one of the millions.

Which lead him to where he sat now, tapping his fingers along the edge of the mahogany desk behind which he sat, humming out a tuneless song as he scanned the faded list propped up in front of him. 

The list dated back to at least a few hundred years before he had been born, unsurprising because at the longevity of the lives of the supernatural. At the ripe young age of one hundred and four, he had barely seen past his teen years, despite his outward appearance.

The room was dimly lit, the only source of light filtering through the front shop windows and the dim lights lining the bookshelves. Having stumbled across the place when he was exploring the streets of old New York, Stiles had stepped inside, entranced by the energy pulsing through the place. 

It turned out that the shop was on top of a ley line, a meeting place for all supernatural, which is exactly what it became. The shop seemed ordinary at first glance. Demetrius Blotting and Papers. It was bought in the late 1700s, by a Mr Aldred Demetrius, who owns it today, under the pretence that it has been in his family for generations. Stiles likes to spare a smile when people comment on the uncanny resemblance he has to his long-dead ancestor. 

As the only Fae in the area, the shop had been a welcome abundance of mythical knowledge, and a place where a surplus of peculiar people gathered, piquing Stiles' interest as he watched Weres, Witches and Warlocks pass through the weathered door. 

When he saw a sign wanting help in the window, he knew he had to apply. With how often he visited the shop, and his affiliation with the Faery Court, he was received warmly, something Stiles was grateful to that day.

The memories of how his life had led up to this point occupied him as he sat idly at the desk, an occurrence he found to happen quite frequently. Startling, he felt something small wrap around the tip of his finger. Looking down, he noticed the vines reaching out to entwine with his hand, stretching out from the flower pot. 

Letting it curl around the shape of his hand, he smiled briefly, before carefully urging the vine to return quickly to the pot as he heard the bell chime. 

Looking up, he watched as a man pushed the door open, head bowed against the rain outside. As he straightened up, Stiles' eyed him interestedly. He hadn't seen this man before. But as he surveyed his tall figure, he thanked his luck that he had, because he was a very nice sight to see on a rainy Monday morning. His eyes trailed over his built frame and the light dusting of hair covering his jaw, to the way his coat stretched tantalisingly over his broad shoulders-

A throat cleared in front of him. The man had come closer, a fact not registered by Stiles' appreciative brain. Straightening up, Stiles plastered a grin onto his face and faced the man. "Oh, hey! I think you picked a good time to come inside, or maybe a bad time to head here- it's kind of pouring out there," He commented mildly, leaning over the counter to survey the strangers soaked hair and chagrin expression.

The man frowned, or at least, the heavy set glare deepened, as he stared at Stiles, not acknowledging his words, letting a few seconds of silence fall between them. Stiles shrugged and looked nonplussed, leaning back and giving him an easy grin. Not everyone took to his endless chatter, but he was sure the guy would warm up.

"Anyway," Stiles continued, pushing on despite the silence, "-is there something, in particular, you need help with, or are you just browsing?" His words prompted the man to move, who pulled his bag open, rummaging through it wordlessly. He pulled out a faded card, the familiar emblem of the bookstore on the front. 

He held it out to Stiles, still yet to say a single word, much to his amusement. Flicking his eyes down to the word piece of parchment, Stiles read the familiar text, a wash of recognition coming over him.

animis vim magicam

The magic of the minds. 

It was a calling card, he realised, as he felt a small tingle of energy pulsing from the card and onto his fingers. Handing it back, he gave the man an exaggerated wink and walked around the counter. 

"Oh, you need the special library, I see," He stage whispered, the man quirked an eyebrow, looking as if he wanted to kill Stiles, who hurriedly grinned and ushered the man to follow him. He led him past the winding shelves of the front shop, and down a narrow doorway to another shelf, this one dusty and covered with cobwebs from disuse. 

"So what are you here for?" Stiles asked in a more conversational tone, turning back to see his response, before turning his attention to the bookcase. 

"I need to see- some tomes. The Hale registry," The man muttered, his voice deep. Stiles felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, not entirely in an unpleasant way when he heard it. 

Crouching to grab a vial of something murky out of a small crevice in the wall, he straightened up, interests piqued at the man's words. "Registry, huh? Looking for someone in particular?" He fished, trying to see his expression in the dim light.   
He didn't get a reply.

Uncorking the vial, Stiles wrinkled his nose and emptied a small, dried flower into his hand, before offering it to the stranger. He took it, confusion evident as he stared at the lone flower in his hand.

Putting the cork back into the vial, Stiles turned to face him. "I just need to bind you to the place, if you ever come back you won't need to again, it's different to see a new face around here," He ventured, only to be shut down again as recognition lit up in the man's eyes. Muttering a phrase under his breath, Stiles felt his magic thrum through him, the tattoo pulsing faintly from under the confines of his plaid shirt. 

The stranger watched in interest as the flower drifted into a small cloud of dust, seeming to absorb into his hand, and Stiles watched as his eyes flared a bright, glowing blue. Werewolf. 

"Should be fine now," He said cheerfully, gesturing to the bookcase in front of them, which had now been replaced by an old, oak door as if it had been there all along. "Call me if you need anything," Stiles said earnestly, flashing his eyes a bright violet, watching as the man nodded, making Stiles resigned to the fact that he probably wouldn't be asking much of him.

Rolling his eyes, the man opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him and disappearing from sight. Walking slowly back to the front counter, Stiles mooched over him, his thoughts often returning to him as he read through his abandoned list of books, making him wonder: What was the man doing here? Who was he trying to find in the registry?

**Author's Note:**

> Guys guys guys please enjoy this little magical bookshop thiNg woop i hope you enjoy it <3  
Please leave a comment and a kudos, seriously it means the world and seeing what you guys think is what helps me keep writing ((:


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